Hard Candy
by Xenahime92
Summary: Emma O'Connell was only fifteen when the tragedy of her brother Sean happened. It was a night that she never was able to forget since she should have been.. well, dead. Come to find out she isn't human, but her mate is a British 'devil in disguise' who is tempting her to give into her urges almost as easily as he's offering her candy.. Yeah, something isn't right about all this..
1. Living Nightmare

**Hi everyone. This is a story that is currently being transferred from my AO3 account titled 'Hard Candy'. It is an Originals story. Rated M with dark themes, just to warn you ahead of time. It will probably just keep getting darker as it goes along. Graphic Violence, Character Death, Bound to be some cussing and eventual smut.  
**

 **Full Summary:** Emma O'Connell was only fifteen when the tragedy of her brother Sean happened. It was a night that she would never be able to forget since she should have been.. well, dead. Come to find out that she is not only adopted, she also isn't even human and her 'mate' is a British 'devil in disguise' who has a devious, handsome smirk and sexy accent. All the while, succeeding with tempting her to give into her mischievous urges almost as easily as he is offering her candy.. Yeah, something is definitely not right about all of this..

Pairings: Klaus/Original Female Character. Camille/Marcel. Kol/Davina.. and I might bring Matt Donovan from the Vampire Diaries to be with Rebekah because I like them together.

Additional Tags: True Mates. Blood and Gore. Werewolves. Witches. Vampires. Hybrids. Faeries (The Original Character is one). Soulmate Identification Marks. Dissociative Identity Disorder. Psychological Issues. Dark Themes. Lots of Candy/Faeries are sugar fiends. New Orleans. Supernatural. Hurt&Comfort. Romance. Dysfunctional Family. Humor. Awesome Rebekah Mikaelson. Protective Instincts. Possessive Behavior. Eventual Smut.

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Chapter 1: Living Nightmare.

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 _Swirls of darkened blue that dominated the sky above New Orleans, Louisiana seemed to be forcibly moving the gray tinted clouds in a constant, yet fruitless effort to dispose of them. This evenings cool breeze danced freely through the air above the earth, twisting with an undertone of dark malicious intent that the human race should (and often succeeded in) turning a blind eye to. Yet, the young woman that now walked through the empty streets never really claimed to be what others casually deemed 'normal', having already acknowledged at a young age that there was some kind of glitch within her brain that differed her from others. Something foreign pulsing from where it was contained in her veins._

 _As such, she somehow was able to sense it with each and every passing breath that she greedily forced into her lungs. An overwhelming instinct surged from the depths of her body that was instantly known as self preservation of possible camouflage dangers that went hand and hand with pounding adrenaline. The young honey blonde haired woman of fifteen years of age didn't know what to make of these sudden emotions - for what was an odd occurrence in itself - no life besides herself walked among the streets of New Orleans. This beautiful, lively city that she had grown to love dearly was somehow reduced to that akin to a ghost town.. one in which desperately needed the Scooby Doo Gang right in this moment._

 _She shook her head in an attempt to clear it of her wayward thoughts, lush curls that cascaded down her back moved with every movement she made as she rose up the familiar concrete steps of a beige colored church, soft crunching sounds seemed to echo the soles of her Minnie mouse converse. When she finally reached the top and was confronted by a pair of heavy, wooden doors, she nearly jumped out of her skin as an reverberating sound of thunder echoed from the heavens above._

 _Her natural yet slightly unusual hazel orbs that were made up of more silvery glints than any other color, were now wide as irritation etched upon her sun kissed expression as the young woman lifted her gaze up to the clouds that had become unnoticeably thickened. It seemed as if a storm was rolling in rather quickly, one of which that the forecast once again didn't expect to occur. Of course, She mentally scoffed the two words within her mind before making a move to zip up her warm dark navy blue jacket that curved around her frame quite nicely with her faded black jeans hugging her long legs._

 _Lightening had taken this time to flash from the clouds, curving jagged behind the cross that was high from its place of rest in front of the building. Heavy was the atmosphere around her, due to the storm or from something else she couldn't tell, only that the feeling grew as soon as she began to open the creaking church door to reveal a haunting silence. Normally noise filled the air within Saint Anne's church as the choir boys joked around and got ready for rehearsal, or music could be heard as it was orchestrated somewhere in the background. However no sound greeted her as she stepped through the arched threshold, shutting the door as quietly as she could manage to the offered protection from the oncoming storm._

 _Carefully the young woman stepped forward as she tried to adjust her orbs to the blinding lights that always engulfed the inside of the church, only to pause in a standstill with horror pounding through her veins at the sight before her. From her place between the two back isles of the pews, she was greeted with a sight that she would have never would have bet to witness within her darkest nightmares - let alone in reality. Positioned almost strategically around her brother were the bodies of his fellow friends in the choir, the people he had once cared for deeply were now slumped against the wood.. their life essence bled out from a smooth, deep cut to each of their throats. A move that showed no hesitation.._

 _"Sean.." The word fell from her lips in a gasp as watched, frozen and with baited breath as her slightly older brother hesitantly lifted his crystal blue orbs up from where he gazed almost lovingly down at the curved, bloody knife that he clutched within his right hand. When his shade of blue met her own, chills ran up and down her spine as she instantly took note of how empty they were in contrast to the innocent joy that previously sparkled within them._

 _She said his name again, forcing his name out of her mouth steadier and calmer than it previously had been, even when her emotions raged a conflicting war within her. Taking a step forward carefully, her hands slowly raised up in front of her as a silent gesture that signaled her surrender .. as she fought every instinct that told her to run away as fast as she possibly could in the other direction. No, she tried to silence it as she hesitantly took another step forward. He was her brother in all ways but blood, older than her only by a couple of months - both Camille and himself loved and cared for her as family. Despite the fact that they found out later on that she, was in fact, adopted. The person responsible for this was not the boy that protected her from monsters hiding underneath her bed and bullies that thought they could pick on her.._

 _"Please, Sean..." A whimper forced itself from her lips as she pleaded with him in only two words to stop, to drop the knife.. A sadistic smirk curved upon his lips, the sight of it making her completely and utterly terrified for the very first time that she could ever recall, before it seemed all too quickly that he was standing in front of her .. towering over her shorter frame. Before she knew what was happening, a sharp pain stung around her throat as liquid rushed down from the cut that she had just received from the brother that had once swore to always protect her. Shock and panic surged from the depths of her body and a hand raised seemingly on it's own accord to cup it, though only made it halfway before the ground rose to meet her body as she fell._

 _"Emma!" Her name sounded around her, distant to her ears as if she were underwater and unable to swim to the surface. Through blurry vision from both pain and tears, her eyes settled on the unusual 'X' on the back of Sean's right hand that was slightly darker than his own skin tone before he raised the curved knife that he just slaughtered people with to his own throat. Numbness seeped into her body as Emma's brain started to become sluggishness, she thought of Cami and how she wished she had one last chance to tell the older blonde that she loved her. To tell the only parents that she had ever known thank-you for being such kind hearted people that taken it upon themselves to raise an abandoned baby when they already had their hands full with two._

 _Emma thought she heard the word 'No.' echo on the outskirts of her consciousness that sounded almost like her Uncle Kieran before the shadows around her seemed to come alive, rapidly taking over her vision.. and just when her whole world started to spiral into darkness she thought she heard a voice whisper in her ear that everything would be alright._

 _However, just when she tried to acknowledge it - was the very last second of her awareness, as the very next was when Emma O'Connell knew no more.._

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I hope you like it. :)


	2. Purgatory

**Hi again, so after this chapter this story would be caught up with the AO3 Story. This story is becoming another addiction of mine that I cannot stop thinking about. Hopefully you guys grow to like it as much as I do. This Chapter is Titled:** **Purgatory** **.**

Chapter Summary: Emma and Cami make their way to New Orleans; Emma tries and fails not to be broody.. has psychological issues and guilt due to what she doesn't understand. A few Harry Potter references. Minnie Mouse obsession just like Camille's obsession with the human psyche.. Candy, Monster Energy Drinks, Persephone and the stepping stone of all-around badassery.

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A shallow breath fell from behind a pair of soft, luscious lips that had previously held it with confinement; a quick gasp for air tainted it towards the end. Upon a youthful heart shaped face even at her age of twenty-three, anguish was etched on the young woman's expression. Raw emotions blended together, reflecting deep within her hazel orbs that were mostly dominated by metallic silver; blinking slowly with the exhaustion that weighed heavily on her mind.

Even with sleep blurring her vision, shame burned through her as it was yet again that Emma O'Connell found herself plagued by painful memories that she couldn't forget.. tormented by a past that she wanted more than anything to erase. Normally her nightmares were the of the same dreamscape, the night that she had 'died', however there were bittersweet dreams few and far between. They taunted her with what would never be again as it forced her to swallow the acrid taste that it provided; reflecting the image of the brother she loved.. and tarnishing it with a phantom that made him the puppet whom killed her.

She didn't quite comprehend exactly how she survived that fateful day at the church, not after she went swirling into the darkness that had embraced her with open arms.. for when she was able to open her eyes, she found herself laying in a hospital bed looking like a broken porcelain doll. Camille say on her left in a chair, and through the safety guard rails the elder blonde clutched Emma's hand in both of her own. Her head was hunched forward in silent prayer as her body shook with sobs. Emma clearly remembered the pain that shrouded every muscle she possessed, as well as the wound around her neck that still stung with the acursed blade. Even now after all these years, it felt a faint, curving mark that never faded from the encounter of which she desperately wanted to deny ever occurring.

She had grown to applying make-up foundation in an effort to conceal the scar as best as she could, and sometimes Emma simply wrapped a scarf around her neck. The mere sight of it pained her and she couldn't help but feel like she had failed. The phantom that Sean became seemingly overnight had not caught her attention.. there weren't any hints that she acknowledged. One minute Sean seemed to be himself.. and the next he wasn't. She wasn't strong enough to help him.. and she hated how it showed after it happened. To this day, Emma couldn't understand.. why Sean.. her brother and protector.. tried to kill her.

A sad huff of air released from her mouth, covering the passanger side window with a patch of fog before it slowly disappeared. As Emma righted her body from the curled up position that she was in, she groaned at the feeling of her head pounding in the place where she carelessly leaned it against the window pane beside her. Adjusting the leather that acted as her blanket, she yanked it over her head in a sluggish movement wanting to block out the world. The smell of gasoline slowly tainted the gentle scent of her honey blossom perfume, making the right side of her lip curl upwards subconsciously in displeasure.

Emma didn't want to do this to begin with.. she didn't want to go there; but in the same sense she couldn't leave Camille to fend for herself in New Orleans. She still felt the after effects of shock buzz within her system from when her sister proclaimed she was going, still couldn't comprehend why exactly she would even want to go.

The driver's side door opened abruptly as someone slid into the seat with a crinkling of a plastic bag, forcing Emma to curse herself for brooding and hesitantly peak out of the jacket to see Camille shifting through the bag. Most likely to double check to make certain she bought everything she wanted.

A soft smile that was tainted with sadness curved on Emma's lips as she took in her sister's dark golden hair that was naturally ruler straight and came to a stop to her shoulders. Her outfit was mature unlike her own that Camille fondly dubbed as the 'Rebel phase'. Camille wore a dark denim jack that matched the color of her jeans and white sandals that went with her white collared shirt.

To her sister, Emma was a walking study most of the time; something that the younger blonde beauty couldn't help but secretly despise. While Emma had an overwhelmingly long list of problems regarding Sean's last moments on earth and her part in it; Camille grew obsessed with the need to understand the human psyche. Camille seemed to look at her like a walking contradiction, a rubics cube that she was eager to solve, ever since the day that it showed how much her mind had indeed been warped. Most doctors she was forced to go to blamed her changes in personality to dying, being brought back from the edge of destruction. In truth they were right, as much as she loathed to admit it.. for hearing voices was not what was considered normal.

There was no Basilisk involved, so the hope that she was a parseltongue speaking witch whom misplaced her Hogwarts letter was sadly not made into reality. They classified it as Dissociative Identity Disorder, another thing that Emma hated with a passion; hated the word 'disorder' as if there was something wrong with her. The label doctors slap on the person to 'nicely' deem the patient crazy. Yes, she heard voices sometimes and had 'mood swings'.. but in their defense they gave excellent advice. It only seemed to make Camille's protectiveness of her esclade to a whole new level, especially at the sight of her visibly cringing at every thunder and lightening storm that would pass over the course of the years. She felt like a child, treated like one by her adoptive parents even as an legal adult.

Emma blinked, focusing back onto the present and after stalling one more second pulled her jacket from her face to eye Camille even more. With a side view of her face, Camille looked exhausted with dark circles underneath her blue eyes; testifying that she didn't get much sleep in the past week. Emma grimaced softly, a fleeting thought echoed within her mind.. telling her she failed her sister to.

At her rustle of movement, Camille paused before slowly turning her head to look at Emma, smiling encouragingly as her eyes scanned her orbs for the hidden details that she tried to hide. She didn't need to know just how badly Emma dreaded this 'trip'. With a soft black scarf curled around her neck, Emma met her gaze evenly, lowering her jacket down to her lap to reveal her white silk t-shirt that possessed lace short sleeves. Her pants were ripped in the front, worn for the comfort that she would undoubtedly need, and her Minnie Mouse converse on her feet.

"Hey sleepy head." Camille smiled gently, seeming happy that Emma was awake, "..How are you doing?"

For a moment, Emma didn't know how to answer her. She didn't want to lie, so she settled for - "..I'll be alright." That at least was the closest thing to the truth, she hoped. Nevertheless Camille offered her a look of understanding, before reaching into the white plastic bag to pull out her crystal blue colored gatorade and a small bag of sour cream and onion potato chips; and handing her the rest of the contents within the bag.

Emma blinked in surprise when she opened it; revealing bags of butterscotch hard candy, gummy bears and a bag of cool ranch doritos that were accompanied by a monster energy drink. All of the things that she loved but her parents had refused for her to have. "Thanks, Cams.." Emma looked at her sister as she said the nickname with affection, whom had a look of amusement and reflecting her smile.

Cami nodded before she spoke, mentally in awe that the beauty beside her was so easy to please. Still remaining down to earth despite it all.. "No problem, Em. Your an adult; have been for a little while now. If you are allow to legally buy alcohol, you are able to buy something as simple as candy. No matter what Mom and Dad have to say.." She ended her words in a conspiracy tone, paired up with a wink and eating on of her chips. The display had the desired effect as Emma let loose a laugh, the sound making Camille smile wider than before as she set her opened gatorade in the cup holder of Emma's red transam that she all but refused to drive most of the time. Putting her seat beat on before bringing the car to life, Camille pulled out of the gas station and back onto the road.

After a few moments of silence Cami spoke softly, the only sound that accompanied her voice was the hum of the car, "..Have you talked to them?"

Emma, who had been looking out the window to watch the scenery pass by, closed her eyes in guilt. Camille didn't need to specify who she was talking about. It was hard nowadays to talk to the people that raised her when they treated her as if she was something they needed to fix or even someone they didn't have time for. She felt as though the more she talked with them, the more she twisted the knife deeper on what happened with their son. They couldn't look at the scar permanently on the flesh of her neck, sometimes regarding her as scarred as well. Broken; of which they couldn't return or replace. It hurt her more than she would ever allow them to know..

"..Not in a while." She responded in a murmur, forcing the four words out of her mouth as she allowed her eyes to open a little to look through the bag of goodies that Camille had bought for her. Settling on the Butterscotch hard candy, Emma opened them quickly to eagerly look upon the golden candy that was tightly wrapped individually with plastic.

This was going to be a long trip, Emma could feel it already..

"Where are we?" Emma spoke as she looked around at her surroundings, as if she was trying to place something that was familiar to her even after all these years. Her eyebrows pulled together to confusion, before a sunkissed hand raised to run her fingers through her long, wavy honey blonde hair.

"We are about twenty minutes or so away from New Orleans." Camille confirmed, watching in the corner of her eye as Emma pulled out the newly acquired food and instead gathering all the trash that had accumulated during their journey. Her blue eyes lowering onto the steering wheel for a moment, her hands tightening on the leather underneath her finger tips, before snapping back onto the road before her. "..Are you ready?"

Emma was silent, unable to lie to her slightly older sister by two years but also struggling to put her thoughts into words. "No.. I don't think it's possible that I ever will be." It would hard to think about New Orleans, hard to get past the pain to joyfully experience the culture and wonderful music that would be constantly around her. Hard to look at St. Anne's church much less go in it..

Though as she reached behind the driver's seat, into her huge black Victoria's Secret bag to grab her soft white tiger stuffed animal, gazing into the silvery eyes.. Emma smiled as she pulled the soft furry body to cradle it to her chest before looking back at her sister, "But I will still do it.. _for you."_

Emma reminded herself that she wasn't alone in this.. neither of them were for the fact that they had each other. It's what kept her from jumping out of the car right in that moment and catching a plane back home, forbidding her from calling quits to this 'road trip'. She had Cami.. and Cami could rely on her, even when fear overwhelmed her from the inside out.

A brief flash of both guilt and regret reflected in Camille's orbs, before it was swept away to reveal another smile that twitched upon her lips. The drive was silent even when they passed the 'Welcome to New Orleans' sign made of the colors blue, white and gold.

She could only hope that this visit would not be revealed to be as tragic as the last.

Emma gazed down at her tiger after she ate some of her gummy bears, a sigh vibrating through her mouth and chest as she played with her ear. She had one last thought before she engulfed them both underneath her leather jacket:

 _Welcome, dear Persephone.. to the place in which became my own version of purgatory on earth._

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 **Thank you for reading I hope you guys like it. Feel free to comment and let me know what you think, I would love to hear it. :) For those who didn't understand 'Persephone' was the name of her white tiger, and in Greek Mythology was the goddess of Spring whom became the wife of Hades. She was known for fulfilling all of the wretched curses placed on the souls of the dead.**


	3. Persephone

**Thank you so much for your follows, favorites, reviews and for clicking on this story in general. I love the feedback you all give me. This is Chapter 3: Persephone. Happy reading.**

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Camille O'Connell had taken notice of her younger sister's shift in emotions almost as soon as she started to move in the passenger seat beside her. Her head snapped to the right rather hastily to gaze into Emma's orbs that reflected the anxiety the young woman wouldn't allow onto her face; before she dragged both herself and her precious 'Persephone' into the shadowy depths of the leather jacket. The movement was one that Camille easily identified as trying to block out the world around her. So alike a young child who was frightened of a raging storm, Emma hid away into the only place she deemed safe and available to her at the moment. It was a fact that made guilt boil through Camille's veins, more so with the reasoning that she was the cause of it.

After all she was the one in the driver's seat, the one that proposed the idea to go to New Orleans in the first place .. but as much as Camille felt guilt for causing Emma more anguish, it waged war with the relieving thought that she wasn't alone in this. That despite the tragedy that became of Sean, her _twin_ brother and the extent of her soul, coupled with the events of his homicidal actions to both himself and the individuals around him ... they both stood as strong as they were able to. From the very moment that Camille held Emma's limp hand as she rested in the hospital bed, she swore to herself she would try her best to protect Emma.. by any means she deemed necessary. That the young woman wouldn't ever feel alone ever again, not if she could help prevent it. ..She promised herself that she wouldn't fail Emma, like she knew she failed Sean.

Camille was probably the only member of their family that didn't regard Emma as either a charity case or a broken doll, not when she understood that despite her near death experience Emma was far from what their parents thought her to be. No, she was much more than that and Emma needed space to flourish into the person she had the possibility to become. Without the weight of their parents' eyes following her every move; Emma needed to live her life and it seemed only Camille was the one to be able to see that.

In an effort to understand more of the inner workings of the human brain, Camille studied Abnormal Psychology with religious determination; as if it held the answers to all of the questions that accumulated over the years. Despite her efforts though, nothing made her understand why Sean behaved the way he did that night. It was so out of character of everything she had known about him, the boy she was attached to since their first moments on earth, that she absentmindedly searched for any answer to explain it. Yet, so alike Emma, she refused to accept that their wasn't an answer out there to make sense of what Sean did. Was there a way to understand the chaos that was delivered from within madness? This question had been plaguing Camille mind for quite some time now.

When Emma was diagnosed with Dissociative Identity Disorder, with evidence left behind to testify that she was shifting through alters in the form of writing and vocal pitches both low and higher than her natural voice, it presented Camille with the ultimate challenge of sorting through the psyches housed within Emma's brain. A sort of ongoing test for Camille to do in her free time to understand more of her adoptive sister, trying to decode the meanings behind the words and actions that came from Emma.

What most people didn't understand about Emma when they discovered her secret, was she could be described as a broken vase. The pieces, no matter the contradicting of size, were still of her.. still belonging to Emma whom just needed to be reminded of that she was loved and that she was alive. They didn't understand, none of them did and Camille grew irate fairly quickly when others deemed Emma as 'crazy'.. or a 'schizo' as she was called a few times because of the unintelligible delusion that there were too many similarities between a person with 'Schizophrenia' as opposed to Emma's diagnoses of 'Dissocative Identity Disorder'.

However with Schizophrenia - with the intended reference of the mind - is to a split between rationality and emotions, not a split within a personality. Trauma doesn't make someone have Schizophrenia, it is actually a largely genetic illness whereas Dissociative Identity Disorder or D.I.D is a reaction to the trauma.

Camille's right eye twitched twitched as she pulled the car into the parking lot of the large, dark bricked apartment complex they would be staying in, turning the engine off after she chose a spot. Leaving the atmosphere around her to thicken whilst Camille growled underneath her breath as she once again contemplated the uneducated people around them. There was absolutely no excuse for ignorance and stupidity as anyone with a computer and knew how to operate _Google_ would be able to find out just how different they are. What people refused to understand was the fact that Schizophrenia was a serious mental illness that interfered with someone's ability to think clearly, manage emotions, make decisions and relate to others. It made the person have abnormal social behavior and incapable of realizing what is real.

Emma was different than that, even with her illness and all of her 'issues'. Able to interpret the world around her even with the voices echoing in her head, she was able to think clearly and use her emotions as any other human. When her alters came to life, fighting to the surface of Emma's consciousness on occasion, it was because they needed to be heard and understood in the only way they knew how to achieve that.

In a white, thick binder that Camille kept of her work, towards the back were her notes and characteristics the elder blond had found and analyzed with the personalities Emma had. Ranging from the ages of a young child to adult, they each housed forgotten memories that they held dearly and refused to give up.

They wanted recognition, safety and possibility most of all - acceptance. Camille found that no matter how they differed from each other, they were alike in similar ways. They wanted what any other person yearning for, subconsciously or otherwise. Who was she to deny her little sister, any part of her for that matter, something she wanted?

Emma was always eager to please others, even when she was young, as if she was trying to measure up to the people around her and their expectations of what they should be. She was also the type of kid that others found easy to please, easy to give her something and she would be happy with it. Camille remembers how Emma wasn't ever really a fussy baby, a fact that transitioned into adulthood. ..And now, years down the line, she was only asking for the ability to shed the young teenaged woman that nearly lost her life to circumstances that shouldn't have happened in the first place.

Nevertheless, Camille felt the young beauty needed to step into the direction that led to recovery, not sweep it under the rug to trip over later on into the future. It was hard not to acknowledge the torment in Emma's silvery hazel orbs, the emotion engulfing her soul to reflect just how dead she was from within. Just how much a huge part of her died that stormy night in Saint Anne's Church all those years ago.

'Who knows.. maybe this would actually be good for Emma?' Camille forced herself to think in an optimistic matter even when her brain disagreed with a dose of realism. Even so, maybe whilst here Emma would find something in New Orleans that would change her view on the beautiful city that she once loved. It was probably wishful thinking on her part, but Camille wanted Emma to conquer the demons that always plagued her at night. The kind of nightmares that left her screaming in pain, waking up to gasp for air and on the verge of a panic attack. Remembering just how Emma murmured darkly to herself one to many times in reprehend for falling asleep in the first place, Camille's eyebrows pulled together in worry as she shifted her blue eyes to the heap of leather that occupied the passenger seat beside her with her legs stretched out and crossed at the ankle.

When was the last time either of them had a good night's sleep? .. And was she doing the right thing by Emma? Grant it, Camille certainly didn't force Emma to go with her to New Orleans .. but it still felt that she was trying to push her too far. Their Uncle Kieran wanted to see them after so many years apart, but Camille also knew that Emma would refuse to enter the church even if the entire world was on fire..

A sigh released from her mouth as she raised her hand to gently to Emma, whom didn't go back to sleep unbeknownst to Camille as she spoke her little sister's name. After a pause, the edge of the leather jacket was pulled up to reveal her unusual eyes shrouded by the darkness that lay within. Camille blinked as she took in Emma's eyes carefully, analysing the emotions they held to acknowledge that this was indeed Emma whom was looking at her with a troubled frown twisting on her lips.

That was another downside to coming back to New Orleans.. Camille couldn't bet with full confidence that every time she spoke to her sister; she was actually speaking to Emma. This place brought bad memories to the surface that Emma would rather hide from, even if Camille not so privately thought that it was unhealthy.

"We're here.." She spoke gently with acknowledgement enlaced in her voice, allowing Emma to resurface from the comfort of her jacket on her own time as she got out of the car to start grabbing their things that were safely tucked in the back seat and trunk. Their other things would arrive tomorrow morning, whilst Camille made sure that the house had it's necessities before they even got to the state of Louisiana.

The sound of a a car door opening and closing made Camille lean her head to the side to look around the opened trunk, seeing Emma also follow her lead with her leather jacket on her small yet curvaceous form of five foot three; clutching her white tiger stuffed animal as if it was her life line.

Ironically, it was the same one that Sean had given her when she was six years old and because of how much she prized the thing it seemed time have never been able to lay a hand upon it. Camille also found it strange that after the event of Sean's death, Emma had named her stuffed animal after 'Persephone' said to be the Greek Goddess of Spring Growth whom was tainted and wed to Hades and is often concerned with the world of spirt, occult and regarded in matters of death. Mystical.. visionary and said to possess spirit guides. Her awareness regarded as diffused yet is vulnerable. Her mother, Demeter, mourned sorrowfully in the face of her abduction.. of which her father Zeus had a part in.

The Goddess of the Underworld..

There was a lot of information in that name, of what Emma couldn't say for one reason or another. It was strange as Emma never believed in such things, yet Camille still researched in an effort to learn more about her sister. Raised Catholic, the younger blond had never before put much faith in any other religion besides her own..

Camille shook her head swiftly, retiring for the moment the never ending battle she fought to analyze Emma's psyches, as the female in question moved to help her grab the bags from the car. She allowed an optimistic smile to twist her lips as she nodded her head sideways to the building in a universal gesture for Emma to follow her inside.

Mamata Banerjeee once said: _Change is a continuous process. You cannot assess it with the static yardstick of a limited time frame. When a seed is sown into the ground, you cannot immediately see the plant. You have to be patient. With time, it grows into a large tree. And then the flowers bloom, and only then can the fruits be plucked._

..And with each step forward, Camille silently prayed that whatever 'peace' was Emma find it. Heaven knew that girl needed some good in her life.

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After unpacking their belongings, the sisters gave each other a look that could held an entire conversation that everyone else couldn't interpret. It ended with Camille gazing at her younger sister with an expression that was torn between exasperation and amusement as Emma bounced away to get her jacket; coupled with the extreme possibility of kissing Persephone goodbye.

Halfway through organizing the house, Camille caught the slight change that rippled through Emma's body; a thing that would almost go unnoticed to the untrained eye. Her orbs grew to be blown wide, childlike on her youthful face and her speech decreased in age as Emma herself shifted for the first time since their move.. most likely was dragged into the darkened abyss that was within her own body and mind _because_ of the move. Camille could do nothing besides close her eyelids to conceal her emotions and release a heavy sigh from behind her lips; before continuing with what she was doing. Speaking in gentle tones to her sister throughout what they were doing, even making a promise to her that when they were through cleaning they would go out and explore what New Orleans had to offer - that is if she wanted to.

It wasn't Emma's fault that this was happening to her, and Camille refused to let her think it was so.

Though when they said 'exploring'.. it of course didn't have a pit stop to Saint Anne's Church; in fact Camille wouldn't be surprised in the least if Emma avoided the church in a span of at least three blocks. After pulling up her hair in a ponytail and grabbing her jacket, Emma waited for her by the front door. The action made Camille smile gently, shell shocked into silence whilst faced of _any_ part of Emma O'Connell eager to explore New Orleans.

Maybe it was wishful thinking once again clouding her judgment, but Camille prayed once again that their time within New Orleans would start looking up. Maybe with time it would once again become the place they loved - with time, patience and happier memories then the ones they both would rather forget. Only time will tell.

...Little did either of them know, this was only the beginning of mayhem descending within their lives - starting with two desperate witches at _Rousseau's Bar_ \- and they would need a lot more than wishful thinking if they were hoping to get anywhere.

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 **I hope all of you like it. I went through it a few times before I was happy with it, lol. Thanks for reading. :)**


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